Second Ghost Story: Cow Milk
It was twelve hours later.
Suyeon noticed first. She woke that morning and tried to fasten her bra, only to find the hooks would no longer meet.
It was the same underwear she had worn without trouble the day before. Standing before the mirror, she examined her chest.
She could tell at a glance. They had swollen.
At least a full cup larger, by the look of it.
"What is this…"
She pressed a fingertip into the flesh of her breast. It felt firmer than usual.
The skin was stretched taut. Every time her nipples brushed against the fabric, a sharp tingle raced up her spine.
It was a sensitivity she had never known before. The areolas themselves had darkened as well.
What had once been the size of a five-hundred-won coin, a soft rose-pink, had spread to the width of two finger joints and deepened into a rich reddish-brown. As her breasts swelled, the skin had drawn so thin that the bluish veins beneath showed through.
Her nipples themselves had nearly doubled in length, standing stiff and erect, jutting forward.
Stranger still was the stain spreading across the inside of her bra.
It was wet.
Suyeon hurried into the bathroom and locked the door. Cupping her breasts, she stood before the mirror.
From the tips of her nipples, thick cream-colored liquid was beading and dripping down. When she gave a gentle squeeze, it sprayed out in a thin stream.
It was warm. It smelled sweet.
Exactly like that milk.
"…This can't be."
Jiwoo's voice came from outside the door.
"Mom… I…"
Suyeon opened it. Jiwoo stood in the hallway still in her pajamas.
Her nipples showed clearly through the thin cotton shirt. The fabric over her chest was soaked through, clinging to her skin.
"Me too…"
Jiwoo's voice trembled. Without a word, Suyeon pulled her into the bathroom.
Their eyes met. That morning, the milk they had both drunk together.
The atmosphere at the breakfast table that day was strange.
Suyeon and Jiwoo came out without bras, wearing hoodies. Both of them had unnaturally swollen chests. Suyeon spoke less than usual; Jiwoo barely touched her food.
Yujin set the milk carton on the table.
"Did you read the back of this?"
It was the discarded carton. She must have pulled it from the trash.
The back was covered in tiny, dense print—something none of them had bothered to examine until now.
Who reads the back of a milk carton?
Yujin read it aloud, word by careful word. Her voice carried no emotion at all, as dry as if she were reading an instruction manual.
This product promotes mammary gland development to induce continuous lactation.
Within 12 hours of consumption, a sensation of breast swelling and a nursing impulse may occur. This is a natural physiological response, and the secreted breast milk is safe for consumption.
The table fell silent.
Seoyeon set down her spoon. Minjun could not find a single word. Suyeon and Jiwoo's faces had gone pale.
"…Keep reading."
Suyeon's voice scraped along the floor.
The effects of this product are permanent. Lactation can be regulated through natural discharge or nursing; failure to regularly express milk may result in breast pain. The nursing impulse toward the opposite sex is a normal side effect.
Yujin set the carton down. That was the end of the description.
There was nothing more to read. It was already enough.
"Permanent."
Jiwoo repeated the word under her breath. It hung over the table for a long time.
Suyeon tried to endure it alone until that afternoon.
She locked the master bedroom door and spread a towel across the table. When she pulled off her top, the damp towel came away from her chest carrying a thick, milky scent.
She gripped her own breasts and squeezed. Warm liquid traced lines between her fingers.
Ten times, twenty times—it kept coming. By the time her wrists ached too much to continue, her breasts were still heavy and hard.
This isn't working.
She stood before the bathroom mirror and looked at her own chest with the T-shirt hiked up.
She could tell at a glance. Swollen. Full of milk.
White droplets were already beading and dripping from the tips of her nipples. The pain that refused to end no matter how much she expressed it had begun to throb all the way into her shoulders.
Suddenly a memory from twenty-one years ago rose up—the first time she had held newborn Minjun and put him to her breast.
The sensation of those tiny lips fumbling for her nipple. The strange shiver that had risen from deep inside her body as the milk was drawn out.
For the first few days her nipples had cracked and hurt, but she had grown used to it. She had nursed him for a full year that way.
She had raised her son with her own body.
It had been natural then.
The face in the mirror looked back at her. Their eyes met. The face of a thirty-six-year-old woman aching with full breasts overlapped with the face of the fifteen-year-old who had been too young to be a mother, holding that child and nursing him twenty-one years before.
Just like then. Exactly like then.
Suyeon lowered her T-shirt and slowly opened the bedroom door.
She paused for a moment in the hallway leading to the kitchen. She could see Minjun's back as he sat on the living-room sofa. She took one deep breath.
"Minjun."
That afternoon, Suyeon called him from the kitchen.
"Minjun."
Her voice was different from usual—something suppressed, and yet urgent. Minjun rose from the living-room sofa and went to her.
Suyeon stood in front of the sink. She must have been washing dishes; her hands, still in rubber gloves, were trembling.
Her back was wet. Not sweat—something seeping from her chest had soaked through the T-shirt.
The white stain was spreading wider and wider across the fabric.
"Mom…?"
"…It's strange."
Suyeon turned around. Her face was flushed.
Her breathing was short. The corners of her eyes were wet.
Whether from pain, shame, or that "impulse" written on the carton, he could not tell.
"The milk… keeps coming. No matter how much I squeeze, it won't stop. It hurts. It hurts so much."
Her hands rose to her chest of their own accord. Wet handprints spread across the T-shirt.
"The instructions said… regular expression…"
Before she finished speaking, Suyeon pulled the T-shirt up. Her bare breasts, free of any bra, came into view.
They hung heavier under gravity, at least two cups larger than before. Her nipples jutted long and thick; the tips had parted slightly, revealing a glimpse of the pink flesh inside.
From those open slits, thick cream-colored liquid was already beading and running down. Thin streams traced all the way to her navel, and the trails across her skin glistened as they caught the light.
Minjun stopped breathing.
"…Drink it."
Suyeon's voice sat somewhere between a sob and a command.
"Please. It hurts too much…"
Minjun stepped closer. He rested his hands on her waist.
Her skin was hot. Her heart was racing.
No—that was his own heart.
He brought his mouth to her. The moment his lips touched her nipple, Suyeon's entire body shuddered.
His tongue pushed the stiff nipple up against the roof of his mouth and sucked; thin liquid spilled across the tip of his tongue first. A translucent first milk with a faint bluish cast.
It was mildly sweet with a hint of salt. The moment he swallowed, a second wave followed.
The texture was completely different. Thick, viscous, cream-like liquid flooded over his tongue without pause.
It was rich and sweet. Every time that liquid, warm as body heat itself, slid down his throat, he could see her entire breast contract as if being wrung out.
White droplets sparkled at every pore where the milk sprayed.
Suyeon's waist tilted toward him. The fingers tangled in his hair spasmed and trembled.
She fumbled the hiked-up shirt off as if it were in the way and tossed it aside.
The T-shirt hit the floor. With every pull of his mouth, a wave she had never felt before radiated from deep inside her chest.
It was different from the pain receding. Something was heating up from below her navel.
Without realizing it, Suyeon clenched her thighs tight. Minjun's body pressed closer still.
It was a movement he himself did not register. Absorbed in drinking her milk, his lower body sought his mother's of its own accord.
Beneath his jeans, his hard cock pressed against her lower belly. The tip of the shaft met the soft hollow between her navel and pubic bone.
Even through the fabric, heat and pulse transferred. Suyeon drew a sharp breath.
The feel of her son's rigid flesh digging into her stomach. The thought that she should pull her hand away collided with the thought that if she moved, it would press even deeper.
Minjun's hips began to rock in small, unconscious thrusts. Still without his own awareness.
"More…"
He could not tell whether the voice was his or his mother's.
He kept sucking. When he emptied the left, the right swelled fuller still.
Even the lightest brush of a nipple sent white streams spraying. He moved his mouth to the right.
Suyeon's back met the edge of the sink. Dishes clattered.
How long they stayed like that, he could not say.
When Minjun finally lifted his mouth, Suyeon's breasts no longer leaked. The pain had subsided.
Only their breathing remained in the kitchen. Slowly, Suyeon pulled her T-shirt back down.
She looked up at his face. Milk clung to the corner of his mouth; she wiped it away with her thumb. When her fingertip brushed his lips, their eyes met.
Neither of them spoke.
Minjun felt the front of his pants grow uncomfortable. His cock, fully hard, was pushing up against the denim.
There was no hiding it. Suyeon's gaze dropped there.
It lingered a moment, then slid away without a word.
"…Thank you."
That was all she said.
Minjun left the kitchen. In the hallway to the living room he paused and braced a hand against the wall.
His fingertips tingled. The taste of Suyeon's milk still lingered in his mouth.
Sweet and salty. He swallowed.
The erection intensified again.
Late that evening, Jiwoo knocked on Minjun's door.
"Oppa…"
A careful voice. When he opened it, she stood in the hallway.
The oversized hoodie she always wore. Yet the swollen outline of her breasts showed clearly beneath the fabric.
She held a small towel pressed to her chest. It was already soaked.
"I'm the same… as Mom."
Jiwoo's eyes were red.
"Earlier… when you and Mom were in the kitchen…"
Minjun's face burned. She had seen.
"Please. It hurts so much for me too."
Jiwoo came into his room and sat on the edge of the bed.
Minjun closed the door. Slowly, she pulled the hoodie off.
She wore nothing underneath.
Smaller than the other women in the house, yet clearly larger than yesterday, her breasts came into view. They had a firm spring to them.
Not yet fully ripened, but already a woman's chest. Her areolas, smaller and paler pink than Suyeon's, tightly encircled her nipples.
The nipples themselves stood even stiffer than Suyeon's. The less mature flesh only heightened the tension; the tips tilted sharply upward.
A single translucent droplet, faintly pink, beaded at the tip. It hung glittering for a moment, then slid down her thigh.
"Can you… drink it?"
Jiwoo's hands trembled. Without a word, Minjun knelt in front of the bed.
His face came level with her chest. She cupped both breasts and lifted them toward him.
Offered them the way a mother offers her breast to a baby.
But she was his little sister, twenty years old, and right now she was holding back tears.
He put his mouth to her.
"…Ah."
A small sound escaped her. As he began to suck, her hips gave a slight jolt.
Thinner than Suyeon's, and sweeter. Closer to actual milk.
He sucked again; her hands came up to cradle his head. Her legs drew together of their own accord.
Feeling the heat bloom between her thighs, Jiwoo squeezed her eyes shut. Her twenty-year-old body already knew this was not merely the pain receding.
Her right hand slid down over her own thigh. A movement she did not consciously make.
Her fingers climbed slowly from her knee along the inner thigh. Through the thin cotton pants, her palm pressed lightly there.
Her fingertips traced the cleft of her sex up and down. Another hot breath escaped her lips.
Without even knowing what she was doing, her fingers found a rhythm. Matching the pace of Minjun's sucking, she rubbed the mound of her pussy through the fabric.
"Keep… going."
Her voice was wet. And it was not only her voice.
Minjun emptied the left and moved to the right. Jiwoo leaned farther and farther into him.
She closed her eyes, holding his head. Until the milk stopped flowing, only their breathing filled the bedroom.
When he lifted his mouth, her nipples gleamed wet. Jiwoo's face was scarlet.
Minjun's gaze dropped. Between her thighs, the crotch of her pale gray cotton pants was soaked.
The fabric clung to her skin, the wet stain outlining the cleft of her pussy with perfect clarity. Clear, sticky fluid had soaked through and spread all the way toward her ass.
Following his eyes, Jiwoo looked down, realized her pants were wet, and sucked in a breath. Both hands flew to cover her crotch.
Far too late. The front of Minjun's pants grew uncomfortable again.
Her gaze landed there. Just as Suyeon had done, Jiwoo looked away without a word.
"…Thank you, Oppa."
Minjun stood up.
That night, in the shower, he braced a hand against the wall and stood for a long time. He turned the water cold.
The heat from the kitchen earlier, the body warmth from Jiwoo's room, the two lingering tastes in his mouth. No amount of water washed them away.
And there—the erection.
Was this really all right?
No answer came. And he knew that tomorrow morning Suyeon would call him to the kitchen again, and Jiwoo would knock on his door once more.